The Best Man's Guarded Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

which meant that tangling with her arrogant playboy host was the last thing she should be doing. Her priority had to be the flowers. If this project went wrong she could kiss her fledgling career goodbye. And, God forgive her for her pride, she wanted to prove to Andreas that she wasn’t a bumbling idiot—contrary to all current evidence.
    Set into the cliff-face above the small harbour, the workshops mirrored the sugar cube style of the main house. Inside, the cool double-height rooms with their exposed roof beams and roughly plastered walls would be perfect for storing and assembling the flowers.
    Grace quickly moved about the first workshop on the row, sweeping dust off benches and pulling two into the centre of the room for her to work at. Outside again, she raced down to the harbour jetty, grabbed a stack of flower buckets, and ran back up to the workshops. Within minutes her legs were burning because of the steep incline.
    Back inside the workshop, she dropped the buckets to the floor and exhaled heavily. What had she taken on? How on earth was she going to strip and trim over a thousand stems of peonies and lisianthus by herself?
    She gave herself a shake and scanned the room. There was no tap. What was she going to do about water? She ran into the adjoining room and almost cried in relief when she saw a sink in the far corner. She twisted the tap. The gush of water restored some calm.
    Twice more she ran down to the jetty to collect the remaining buckets, and the box she had packed personally, which contained all her essential tools: knives, scissors, pruners and a vast assortment of tapes, wires and cord twine.
    By the time Andreas appeared at the workshop door she was not only hot and sweaty but also covered in wet patches from the sloshing water as she carried endless buckets of water from the adjoining room back into her temporary workshop.
    He, in contrast, was his usual effortlessly cool and elegant self, wearing faded denim jeans that hung low on his hips and a slim-fitting sea-green polo shirt. Muscular biceps, washboard abs... How good would it be to walk into his arms and feel the athletic strength of his body?
    For a few seconds every ounce of energy drained from her and she wondered how she didn’t crumble to the workshop floor in a mess of crushing attraction.
    Pointedly he glanced at his exquisite platinum watch.
    Inwardly she groaned at her lack of focus.
    She rushed to the door and pointed down towards the jetty. The pale wooden structure sitting over the teal-blue sea was the perfect romantic setting for the arrival of the wedding guests on Saturday.
    â€˜The flowers are all packed in those large rectangular boxes, stacked together. We need to get those inside now. The other boxes can wait until later.’
    She was about to pass him when he placed his hand on her forearm. ‘I’ll collect the boxes—you stay here and continue with the work you were doing.’
    She swallowed hard, her whole body on alert at the pleasurable sensation of his large hand wrapped around her arm. ‘We don’t have time.’
    His eyes moved downwards and lingered on her chest.
    Grace followed his gaze. And almost passed out. Her wet blouse was transparent, and clinging to her crimson-trimmed bra.
    His lip curled upwards in one corner and for a moment she got a glimpse of how lethal he would be if he decided to seduce her.
    â€˜Perhaps it might be better if you stay inside for a while; Ioannis and the wedding team are due to arrive soon.’
    Mortified, she twisted away, grabbed some buckets and pointedly turned and nodded in the direction of his watch. ‘You’d better get going as your half an hour is ticking away. I reckon you’ll struggle to get all of the boxes in by then.’
    A smirk grew on his lips. ‘I’ll try not to break into too much of a sweat...’ He paused as his eyes rested on where her wet blouse was sticking to her skin. ‘Although it does